A new dawn, a new malfoy
by Shadow-StrikeME
Summary: The next new adventure probably wasn't meant to be a self insert into the world of Harry Potter, but it is now and I suppose there's worse places I could be than as the twin sister of Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello, everyone. The formatting of this story has been causing a bit of a bother probably due to some mistakes on my end, I hope this time things will be fixed though. I feel it only fair to say that I have a habit of getting writer block for long periods of time before getting inspiration out of the blue, so release times may vary. This is also a hobby of mine that I wish to improve on so I'd request that if anyone has any pointers or tips then please feel free to give them in a review.

* * *

A famous man once said death is but only the next great adventure, my first one though wasn't really all that interesting. Born to a decent family neither poor or wealthy and no real clue what I wanted to do as I grew up I went on to study drama. That's not to say I was the most confident or social person, in fact a lot of the time I was on the outskirts looking in, a little too nervous to take the step into the deep end. So imagine my surprise when I was good at it; acting, being on a stage in front of people entertaining a crowd with the smiles that I always struggled to make. I was ecstatic finally something I could do. When the offer to go to the London Drama School came up I went for it. It was the beginning of a new adventure.

* * *

Back in June 2016, just a few months ago actually, I was interviewed by the London Drama School which composed of two pieces and a small follow up interview. This unlike so many other things to me meant something, so where usually I was calm, collected and just a little not bothered, this time I was anxious, terrified and very much bothered. In a way I think those emotions helped me during my performances. Either way my pieces as Abigail from the crucible and Juliet from Romeo and Juliet passed, and with flying colours. I couldn't be more ecstatic when the confirmation letter came through.

Now three months later I was on the way to my next adventure.

Since I originally lived in the Scottish city of Glasgow, which was a seven hour journey by car living at home was impossible, though I still wanted to try if only to stick with my family. My mum had quickly rid me of any plans for getting the hour and a half plane journey everyday. So now I was on a coach to London for the campus accommodation, settling in day.

Now please don't assume because my dad wasn't taking me by car he didn't love me or the world was ending. In reality my mum had bought me the 'accommodation essentials' as approved by her. Yup, she went overboard. So now I was on a coach carrying carrying over a bagadazillion ton (yes it's a real number) of 'accommodation essentials' while speeding along the M6. Well not me, but the driver on the coach I was on, same thing really.

It was just around this point that things went horribly wrong. With little traffic we were moving along quickly, as was everyone else on the roads. This included the long haul truck going just under the speed limit. Speeding or not however meant very little when a sudden tyre puncture lead the rig right into our buses back bumper. The rest of the bus braced themselves, me… Well I jolted and dropped my iPhone. When the world faded to black I don't think it was because the iPhone bigger than my hand hit my head.

* * *

At 1pm on the 5th of June 1980, Narcissa Malfoy is admitted to the maternity ward of St Mungo's. After nine months of pregnancy she has finally entered labour. The event is not an entirely pleasant one as she spends much of the time alone, her husband Lucius already preoccupied with a Death Eater raid is unable to arrive until four hours since she was administered. It is a grim experience hearing her scream for the next two hours until finally the effort pays off.

They have two perfectly healthy children, a boy and a girl. The boy, the older twin is named Draco Lucius Malfoy after his father, while the girl is named Aurora Narcissa Malfoy after her mother. For this moment the propriety of their station is forgotten in place of the joy of first time parents. This will be a moment they hold onto.

* * *

Three years later and Narcissa finds it difficult to think how her life would be without the twins; she knows they're probably what kept her going even when the war progressed until its sudden ending. So many times when her husband left the house she found herself alone, helping them learn to walk and talk, their hilarious babbles distracting her long enough for Lucius to return safely home.

She remembers the first time they walked, Draco was first. Though Aurora seemed to stand first she seemed anxious of the moving part until her brother showed her how. Narcissa's princess got him back though when she spoke her first words earlier, her heart felt like putty when her little girl told them 'I luv yooo'. Admittedly their pride may have gotten away from them at that moment as they began to fight tooth and nail to get Draco to say their name first. In the end up his first word had been 'No'. She didn't think she'd ever seen Lucius pout before then.

* * *

Due to the baby boom of the first wizarding war Narcissa has many people to talk to when it comes to raising her children. It is to her surprise then that so many of her fellow purebloods, and a few less desirables, though they are not personally asked, speak of the terrible trouble they have with their children. At the time Narcissa can't understand what they mean - Aurora is an active little girl and terribly bright with the word prodigy already looming over her head, but at the same time so well behaved. Draco is different... more privileged but well behaved all the same, and easily managed. The troublesome toddlers are nowhere in sight, until they appear so quickly it must be a horrible curse.

* * *

Half way through their threes, on the 20th of December the Yule ball comes around and Aurora finally misbehaves, just not in a way either parent can truly oppose.

The bones family are meant to be holding the event this year, as a largely neutral party during the war and neither pro-dark or light they were chosen as a safe host. The party was meant to start at four, it's already ten minutes past. If they're quick they might just be fashionably late. In the entrance hall Lucius is ready in his tuxedo and dress robes, while in his arms a similarly dressed Draco is scratching at the collar of his robes a face of disgust printed across his face due to the 'poor quality' most likely, it is a shame there own tailor doesn't specialise in children's clothing Narcissa thinks.

Still in one of the female dressing rooms Narcissa is dressed in a slytherin green formal evening dress with a sophisticated hemline that reaches her ankles. On the other hand Aurora... well, her dress is a little crumpled and her small stubby limbs are struggling to find a way in. Her mother has already tried to help, as have the house elves but the little princess has already put her foot down with a pout that would be adorable if her defiance wasn't so Gryffindor. After fifteen variations though Aurora has finally perfected 'No, I want to do it myself.'.

"Really, dear it would be quicker if..."

"...No, I want to do it myself."

"Sweetheart wouldn't it be easier..."

"No."

"We're going to be late"

The young toddler paused, looking surprisingly nervous as she stared down at the defiant dress which just didn't want to go on. If she hadn't she might have seen Narcissa unsheathing her wand.

"Trabeas" The elder witch intoned as the dress which was once on the ground found itself sitting comfortably on her daughter's shoulders, then with a flick and a command of "Scourgify" her daughter's dress looked brand new and they were ready to go.

"Now come along child, we don't have all day."

"But mum..."

* * *

Usually in these stories the one reincarnated has this horrific moment where they're pushed out their new mothers vagina confused, disorientated and screaming. Well either that or they're the silent, watching devil baby. Anyway they then go on to have horrific memories of their babyhood learning to walk, talk and most disturbingly use the toilet. In the other case they get dreams which slowly reveal their past life. For me however as my brain developed, my memories returned slowly merging my past life and this new one to form what my parents knew as me, Aurora.

With the development of my long term memory, by the age of four my earliest memory was actually of my mum, Narcissa Malfoy trying to teach me how to eat properly as a respectable woman... when I was one and a half at the time. The fact my reply had been to childishly slingshot my food at her had caused me to giggle more than a few times when I found myself bored. Which was surprisingly often considering I was a 'mature' seventeen year old in a toddlers body.

That's not to say I was a bad child, just that when I got bored I could get a little more creative than others of my age or amuse myself by simply being a child. For the most part though I was exceptionally mature for my age, mentally if not physically. It was because of this and the sharp progression that had dwarfed most of the other magical children that I'd been heaped with praise. I couldn't deny I was spoiled. The new toys and clothes where just a bonus when seeing my stoic dad with a real smile or mummy bragging when she thought I couldn't hear (Of course a Lady Black never brags, they merely inform their lesser's of the importance of their accomplishments).

* * *

You've probably realised by now I haven't really talked much about how I felt learning just who my family was, and exactly where I was. The truth is when I learned just who my parents where I didn't care. I couldn't, my parents were kind and caring where Rowling portrayed them as ruthless and cold. Intellectually I knew they could be both but that big part of me, the innocence of a child and a teenager who's greatest tragedy was failing their higher history exam first time around rejected such cruel perceptions of such loving people. After all if Rowling's stories were so focused on the power of love my parents were practically beaming with it.

That wasn't to say though I took it all well, learning I was in the world of Harry Potter was... difficult, I admit.

The first time I heard mention of a Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived adventure book, about a boy saving princesses from dragons before returning home to his palace in Camelot, left me feeling physically sick knowing just how fantasised that story was when a child out there was suffering, I knew rationally it was doubtful the Dursley's had started anything yet but still I couldn't stop thinking just how luxurious my life was when he lived in a cupboard. My parents worried a lot for an entire week after that as I constantly shifted between depressed and scared. Depressed for Harry, and terrified of the coming war which would drag my entire family into it. Including my big brother.

Little Draco who fell to sleep every night listening to one of our parents read the Harry Potter adventure stories, or other magical bedtime stories. The same brother who followed me around and tried to get me to play tag, and then blamed me for starting it when mum caught us, ok he wasn't perfect but he was normal. He was a child, and I couldn't stop the nightmares about how that thing, that monster in human form who'd mark him at the start of sixth year if the story was true.

I had many nightmares about Voldemort now that I knew he was real.

* * *

By the point I was self-aware, I was so used to seeing magic that some of the interest was gone, not entirely of course I was still a child (and always had been at heart) when it came to the idea of magic. Either way by the third month of my fourth year without the inclination to run about like Draco I was bored. So I went back on an old hobby from my past life, I searched for a book to read.

One problem, I didn't know where the books were. Sure I knew there was a library somewhere but the Malfoy mansion had more than fifty rooms, more than half of which I'd never entered. Sure I could spend the entire day on tiny legs searching for the mythical land of books, but babyhood had made me lazy... so I asked the house elves. They were great help, though I wish Mr Beggle didn't cry when I said 'thank you', it made me feel bad and rather reluctant to ever ask again.

Stepping into the library was an experience like very few others, the bookcases that lined the wall spread from corner to corner of the room with only a space for the window. Each of the bookcases seemed to carry hundreds and hundreds of books, a sobering thought passed through my head as I realised even in a decade I would only be cracking the proverbial shell, there was just so many.

What surprised me the most however was despite the bookshelves reaching the roof there was no ladder as would be expected in a library of this size. The reason was obvious when I thought about it of course, these where wizards if they wanted a book they'd summon it, such a demeaning activity as having to climb a ladder to reach a book they'd only read once was unnecessary. It also meant I couldn't get to any of the older books, I realised as my head craned up to the top before scanning down to the bottom three rows which I could reach. They where all children books.

In the centre of the second shelf though one stuck out amongst them all with the name 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard' in golden writing on top of a weighty brown leather cover. As my chubby fingers wrapped around the book and slid it free with a grunt, only to drop it when the weight held up by the shelf transferred entirely to me. Luckily however the book missed my toes as it snapped open on the ground, my eyes meeting the line after line of text as I realised a problem...

...My parents hadn't taught me enough to read. Not really anyway. Sure, they'd taught me the basics which would be expected for someone my age, so I could read a muggle nursery or pre-school book but even the 'children' books here had words I'd never encountered in this world. After all how common was it someone explains what a bard is when the ABCs use 'Broom'. At least I knew because of my past life but my parents didn't know that. I'd been an exceptionally quick learner from an outside perspective but I wasn't entirely eager to push the limits of belief. So I needed a teacher, and I knew where to get one.

* * *

Maybe mum would have been easier.

Right now I was rather regretting asking Dad if he'd teach me to read, come to think of it I should have picked another book, one with pictures preferably. The script of text probably gave him the wrong idea. Now we were in his study, my feet hanging off the large chair facing him and his desk, it was rather intimidating especially for a four year old. Daddy was oblivious though as he stared at me with piercing eyes. His hands clenched together as he leaned on his elbows against the desk.

"Me and your mother planned to start both you and your brothers lessons when you turned five."

"Oh..." I whispered, nervously pushing my thumbs together. He sounded so impersonal, as though he'd flicked a switch and now I was only seeing Lucius Malfoy rather than my father. The fact he'd changed so suddenly into something I didn't recognise scared me.

"We can change this." Lucius said, he was in his business deal mode. He didn't really interact with many children. Whatever he saw in my face though caused him to blink before a silence fell over us. I didn't know what to say as he stared at me again before he spoke softly this time. "If you would like."

I nodded.

"It wouldn't just be reading. You would have other studies."

"I'm bored Daddy."

"You will be expected to ask your mother."

"But..."

"I will ask after."

"Why?"

"...some things are easier that way."

* * *

So after my Father had subtly convinced me to bend Mother to his plan, where he wanted to provide numerous tutors early I got what I wanted, with a tutor to teach English. I should have clarified what he meant by 'other studies' however, because I ended up also learning; Arithmetic, writing, etiquette, dance, music, additional languages (French, Latin and Old English), Pureblood culture, magical history, geography and politics. It was a lot. On the plus side, I wasn't bored any more.

Somehow though Draco had also got included into my little plot. To say he wasn't happy was an understatement. I was constantly stuck between feeling overly guilty and extremely curious, wondering if Dad had looked the same way when he had thrown a strop. I decided such a look of devastation on the mature pureblood was impossible.

* * *

Lucius is used to making deals, after all the Malfoy family is one of the wealthiest in the country even after the _peculiar_ loss of funds during the time he was _wrongly_ accused as a Death Eater after Voldemort's fall. In his experiences he's learned to be cunning, cold and unrelenting in the search of an advantage. By the time his children are born these qualities are second nature to him, and he does not deny that it is difficult to keep this side of his personality hidden around them. Their childish innocence does much to hold less savory masks back... though it does not always succeed.

It is why when one of his children, whom he has fought tooth and nail over with Narcissa to give the best education as soon as possible (Narcissa believes their own teaching will suffice until their children have learned how to behave and function properly. It is obvious she worries about the insanity of her black blood and most of all in her scarily intelligent daughter who), requests to learn and in the process reminds him of so many discussions that his mask slips on. She is only three, but this same subject has been brought up with Narcissa so many times that he finds himself treating the child just like her mother. They look so alike in that regard, Aurora may have his hair but the face is all her mother's. So when Lucius see's that face fill with fear and uncertainty like he's never seen before it's a slap to his face, and he realises this is his fault.

When he is alone, away from those scared eyes he makes a choice. He shall pay her back in the only way he knows how; not with awkward hugs and nervous kisses but instead with a future. Narcissa be damned they will get that education…. _though he will be careful. Don't want another Bellatrix of course._

* * *

Dad was weird after getting our lessons scheduled with some of the most renowned tutors in the world; he became more distant. His smiles were weaker and his actions uncomfortably tense. I wish I could have said I noticed it instantly but with the amount of lessons I had and daily incursions to the library I didn't.

It was Draco who noticed first, it was the real reason he'd been distant to me after my meeting with Lucius, he didn't really care about the extra lessons, he was more worried about Dad. I didn't believe him. There was no way I could have missed something which Draco had apparently noticed weeks ago considering how long he'd been in a mood with me for.

Dad had always been slightly distant after all, not in a bad way just in the way of someone who wants to do good but isn't sure where the boundaries are. The moment I looked however it was blatantly obvious and I felt like I had been sucker punched. I hadn't noticed how uncomfortable he'd been when I should have, and it left me feeling like the worst daughter in the world. So I went about figuring out a way to solve it, a way to break through that barrier he'd put up between us.

I called it Operation: Icebreaker; and so for the next four months Lucius was ambushed, assaulted and attacked by a roaming four and a half year old with the most grippiest hugs in all the land.

It worked. Sorta.

The first time I hugged Dad after beginning my operation was exceptionally awkward. For whatever reason he'd been naturally avoiding me, not enough to be malicious or intentionally cold but in a cautious way as if approaching an injured animal. I neither appreciated or desired the comparison; even if it was only in my own head, so instead I would be the viper in the grass, the predator in wake.

After a few days of preparation following dad's schedule I waited for him in a corridor that lead from his office to the main hall. Luckily for my patience he hadn't been long when I caught sight of him and instantly charged. The tightening of his stance caused him to look as though he was ready to hex me with his wand, which knowing even rumours of his duelling prowess left me having to consciously fight to continue charging.

I couldn't back down now though, to retreat now would be to surrender and cripple any self-confidence my father would have around me, and so I leapt. My eyes only beginning to close as he loosened the tight grip on his wand just in time to catch a mini-missile that slammed into him with a padded thump before tiny arms were wrapping around his chest from underneath his armpits. My eyes shut closed I ignored the rigid tension of his frame that left me ever so slightly worried before I dipped my head into the crook of dad's neck and sighed. It would be a long road.

I just didn't realise how long. After the first hug rather than freeze awkwardly, instead my father would flinch away from me as though burnt by scalding water. It hurt. Still every time I did so I would see the same hurt mixed in his own eyes, only mixed with shame. So I continued to push; hugging harder and longer every time until the heat of my body began to thaw whichever fear he held to hold me.

Then one day, almost four months after my relentless pursuit something changed. This time rather than freeze or flinch he reacted, clutching me closer. It wasn't exactly a hug since his hands were busy gripping my armpit but still it was closer than I'd ever gotten before from him… and it felt like magic.

Speaking of magic I hadn't mentioned it much. The truth is it I didn't think of it often, living for four years with the existence of the house elves was more than enough to disenchant myself to the basics. After all the novelty of a wand flick erasing a smudge of dirt wore off quickly the same way a brand new washing machine would. And it wasn't as if anyone in the house often exhibited spectacular magic like a dragon made of fire. That would be irresponsible and Mum would be livid if anyone damaged the wooden flooring. So over time I forgot about the true wonder of magic as it settled into the back of my thoughts.

That wasn't to say I ever forgot about the existence of magic. That would be impossible, for my past life had given me one advantage to the rest of my world. I could sense magic. Where others could be born with a sensitivity or even learn it my past life's lack of magic meant I had a distinct feel for what was different between our two lives.

Such as the magic that pumped through my veins giving my body a subtle strength which was probably the reason I'd never been sick in this life. How if I concentrated I could feel the flow and how it clumped into a ball in the center of my chest. The same way I could feel the way the ambient magic would seep into the pores of my skin especially around my hands. It left me extremely self-aware.

That wasn't even touching on the magic outside my body. The way I could feel the wards of Malfoy manor welcoming me like an elderly grandparent, a feeling of safety and serenity as it wrapped around me like a well worn blanket or a warm hug. While in the rare few other homes I'd went to, the wards had felt like persistent nannies forever watching for naughty little girls. I never gave them a reason to show their potential punishments. As a result most people assumed I was a little angel in a horde of demonic toddlers (it wasn't really wrong so I didn't correct them.)

In purebloods culture it was common to restrict children to social gatherings and play dates where their parents would constantly watch them to ensure they wouldn't create any grudges at a young age. It meant I hadn't ever been to the Ministry of Magic or Diagon Alley, two places I had to admit I longed to see just to feel the magic in the air. Nevermind Hogwarts. Still I suppose on the positive side I'd been in more mansions than in my past life, and feeling the difference between the growling guard dog wards of the Crabbe family in contrast to the soft welcoming of the Greengrass wards and everything in between was amazing.

People even more so. When I felt for father his presence felt like an arctic tundra with blizzard winds, though rather than hurt me they felt protective as if they could feel my own probing magic. In contrast mothers was a desert with deep caverns which hid the treasure she held dear. Draco's was an igloo hiding a soft fire within. Each of them was fascinating…. and yet one day I realised I couldn't feel my own.

The shock was terrifying and left me horribly confused. With no explanation my mind quickly turned to the worse. The possibility I was a squib.

Now I know what you're thinking, 'your not a squib, you can sense magic'. The truth is so can any squib unlucky enough. After all a squib is born with enough magic to resist the passive effects of muggle repellent wards or drink a potion, but they can't use the magic in their body. It's a horrible fate; to be looking in on a world of wonder and yet never be truly part of it.

So I ignored it, burrowing my head in the sand (Like so many other Wizards with problems. Hmm. Maybe it's genetic.) and hiding it behind excuses. After all I was the pureblood daughter of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, two of the strongest bloodlines of my time. I was part of the genetic jackpot with a golden ticket before it even began, nothing like the muggleborns who relied on pure luck. To even suggest I would become anything other than a magnificent witch was ridiculous and so I squashed those niggling fears under my heel.


	2. Chapter 2

The population of the wizarding community of Britain after the first wizarding war had declined dramatically, and despite grudges between families, gossip easily spread across the community. It was why on the 5th of June 1985 every dark pureblood family in the country was aware of the significance of the date. It was the birthday of Draco and Aurora Malfoy.

 _Personally I'd almost forgot my birthday wasn't on the 5th of December. I can only assume this was a common problem of only being aware of your reincarnation for a year…. it has nothing to do with me being forgetful…. and I was a child, dates are for adults._

 _I'm usually more mature than this, I swear._

* * *

My first year since the merging of my past and current life had been notably eventful in my own opinion. Since regaining my memories I'd began learning about a number of wizarding and pure blooded topics, many of which including wizarding history where something I'd been interested about since reading the books. It was fascinating to see how the history of the wizarding world had influenced it to have such a different culture from its muggle counterpart. I wasn't afraid to admit I was a fan of Morgana after learning how much her actions had lead to a world with less gender restrictions. A world where my mother had thrived even before she'd gave birth to me and the brother I adored.

* * *

"Draco, come back you coward!"

"No."

"If you don't slow down I'm going to kill you."

"No."

"Give me back Mrs Snow."

"No."

"Well I'm telling mum."

Stop.

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" Aurora replied as she looked towards Draco and the fluffy swan clutched tightly in his grip, before her eyes turned teasingly towards the main hall where preparations could be heard taking place. Then in a flash she was gone, her slytherin green dress robes only barely slowing her down. Behind her Draco followed quickly the swan in his hand outstretched to Aurora.

"Come back, Aurora."

"No."

* * *

The trick to a pureblood party is it must be elegant, sophisticated and tasteful even when the guests are lacking the hosts must be capable of picking up the slack. A Malfoy party is so much more. Where other houses may accept, satisfactory it is a Malfoy's duty to create perfection. As they accept memorable, a Malfoy's is unforgettable. Amongst all else though such parties must be original as monotony is left behind.

It is why when preparations for the Malfoy Twins birthday party are instigated they require a personal touch. Narcissa is well aware despite their overall in-superiority that house elves are talented at a number of tasks. By themselves they could eventually make a satisfactory venue, but for true greatness they require direction.

It is why she stands in the central hall surrounded by house elves. Her attention focused solely on the task at hand as she ignores the shouts of her children. _A house elf is always watching them, if there was truly a problem she would know about it._ So instead she focuses on the party ensuring every piece of furniture is in place and the room is surgically clean.

Her focus though is stolen in a mash of childish screams and frenzied running as the twins appear from the west wing. Aurora is first with puffy red cheeks from exertion, and her dress ruined with creases, if the party was ready to start such a state would have left her in deep trouble. Behind her though Draco isn't much better, his dress robes seem to droop at the shoulders as he takes heavy breaths just trying to stand. The clutched swan in his hand that she knows belongs to Aurora gets a raised eyebrow before her daughter speaks.

"Mummy, Draco stole Mrs Snow." The young girl says as she thrust her hand towards Draco as if she cannot see the culprit, who has only now attempted to hide the toy behind his back.

The sight is more than amusing enough to influence her tone as she says. "Draco dear, give Aurora back Mrs Swan."

"Mummmm. It's Mrs Snow now." Her daughter whines, and for a moment Narcissa feels as though she just kicked a newborn puppy. It is a blessing her daughter has yet to catch onto the puppy eyes, yet.

"Oh?" She asks in reply only holding back the pity that honestly shouldn't exist, but when her daughter sounds like that it's difficult regardless of the circumstances.

"She's married now." Aurora says with a nod as though confirming something important that everyone should know. "With Mr Snow." At that her smile is large before becoming thoughtful. "Oh don't worry though Mr Snow's a good swan. She'd never have babies with a non-swan…. like a duck…. that'd be weird." She finished with an almost disgusted pout, probably imagining her beautiful swan merged with a disgusting duck.

For a moment though the group is silent. Aurora in contemplation of what are probably horrific 'Suck' hybrids, Narcissa is staring at her daughter in confusion at the speech…. and Draco, well Draco's trying to find a hiding spot for Mrs Snow.

Any chance of success though vanishes when Narcissa turns a terrifying 'kiddy-friendly', 'you will give me back what I desire or suffer the consequences' glare. In a moment Aurora is almost bowled over by her reintroduction to Mrs Swan. Before she can send a thank you to her mother however she notices the glare honed on them both, or more specifically there state of dress.

"Now come on, you both need changed. No proper Malfoy will ever be at a party in such a dreadful state."

* * *

In the end, I'd been forced into a light grey dress which started at the base of my neck before reaching down the full length of my body straight to my ankles, with glimmering silver detailing that looked almost like twisting snakes which began slivering down all the way from top to bottom. The way the dress seemed to fit to my body would have felt restrictive if not for the acromantula silk which moved like a second skin. Still even then at times I worried about tripping over the long dress which had been bought for 'special occasions'. The fact mother had chosen a pair of new black flats rather than the heels I knew many older witches wore left me feeling more than a little relieved, before the embarrassment that I'd been worried about a five year old being forced to wear heels kicked in.

It still left me feeling somewhat awkward as I entered the entrance parlour, a well maintained room that was well lit with warm, welcoming colours coming from the large open windows which looked out onto one of the family gardens filled with exotic plant life. Though it was not the only gorgeous sight in the room which featured a large book case which showed off a number of pricey, but not especially rare books, along with a sitting area with furniture that I had melted into on more than one occasion like a particularly well groomed cat.

Now though I was on high alert, back straight as a firm hand on the base of my shoulders tried to loosen the tension in my body. In a way it worked as I felt the soft finger tips of my mothers fingers against my back I involuntarily shivered before my entire body relaxed into her touch. Aside me Draco reacted similarly before mum spoke in a calming voice. "Relax darlings, you should enjoy yourself. This is your birthday after all and I'm sure many of your friends while be looking forward to seeing you again."

The friends mentioned had actually all been notable pureblood children that Mother and Father had organised us to meet regularly when we weren't busy at home or at lessons. These meetings of course where all carefully observed by our parents both to scout out the potential of any children as well as ensuring their own wouldn't cause any trouble that could negatively affect their houses standing in the community.

It was during these scheduled meetings I'd heard more than one or two loud adults comment on how I was apparently an exceptionally shy though intelligent girl, such remarks were usually the cause of my attitude as I admit I didn't enjoy the scrutiny of watchful parents. It made me nervous, and at times scared of showing off which only further hindered my relationship with the other kids. We didn't have much common ground when they enjoyed mindless activities such as playing with toys (Mrs Swan doesn't count. She's special.) meanwhile I was much more interested about being well educated, especially in a world so interesting. In school I'd enjoyed debates and working together, here the adults didn't even treat me as anything but an exceptional child while my year mates were all so behind me it wasn't even funny.

At least Draco enjoyed the company, if the excited smile upon his face was any indicator. Either that or he was looking forward to the presents, it was a little hard to tell. Either way it was a genuinely happy smile a far cry from my own well disguised fake smile. It was one I'd first perfected during drama lessons in my first life, and from a look into a number of mirrors I'd determined it was just as good if not even more genuine looking on my new face, almost as though parts of my face I'd never been able to consciously move had lined up perfectly. If I was to be cliche I'd say just like magic.

It was the same face I kept on as the fireplace of the room sparked into a full blaze of emerald green before it was followed by a group of four; two adults and two children. A second look as the fire shrouding their bodies lessened to weak embers confirmed the group as the Greengrass family.

Then even before I could turn my gaze to both children I felt the hand of my shoulders give a gentle push. It was barely noticeable but after a year or so of such greetings it was enough of a signal for me to begin moving towards the group, my brother beside me and mother moving calmly behind us. A second tap had me settling into a well experienced curtsy alongside my mother while my brother gave a slight bow expected of one between those who were part of an ancient and noble house, but not of the same ranking. Similar replies were shortly followed by the Greengrasses with Lord Greengrass giving a slight bow that a muggle might mistaken for a nod.

A moment afterwards mother was speaking in a voice I'd dubbed as 'happily polite' that she used when talking to friends for formal meetings or greetings. "Lord and Lady Greengrass it is a pleasure to welcome you to our house. As well as your children of course."

"And it is a pleasure for you to host us, Lady Malfoy." Lord Greengrass stated with a smooth velvety voice that almost always sent shivers down my back. Then in a move that looked natural he took mother's hand and leaned over to lay a ghostly kiss on the outside of her palm. A standard greeting that I'd seen go horribly wrong, slabbers and all, but he made look effortless. From the look of approval in my mother's eye and Lady Greengrasses I could tell his lips hadn't even connected despite the illusion.

Then like a shroud had been removed from the group, large smiles where crossing the adults faces as our mothers reached over and hugged. A sight that even I looked at with fascination until they broke up and Lady Greengrass began to speak. "It has been too long Narcissa, truly it is a curse I've been so occupied that I have not seen you in months."

"Yes, well Lord Greengrass…"

"...Please Lady Malfoy I think the formalities are a little too late." Lord Greengrass interrupted with a warm smile that was echoed in his pale green eyes.

"...Oh. Well you must call me Narcissa then, Asbolus. Either way as I was saying Asbolus informed me you were on a business trip."

"Ahh yes, I recently went to France and Milan for clothing ideas. There was a rather large modelling show in France this year, I'm not sure if you heard."

"No, admittedly Asbolus was rather short in what you were over for. I assumed you were having issues with supplies from what he had mentioned."

"Yes, well that is true. Terrible business though not worth talking about, and it took me so long to deal with I left my children in horrible care. I had to use our magic mirrors just to be safe nothing terrible happened."

"I assure you dear I was more than adequate at looking after our children."

"Oh no doubt dear. The twenty two different dresses I found in our daughter's wardrobes informed me of that." Lady Greengrass told us all, though in this occasion my attention was focused entirely on the two sisters. As the two's eyes met the smile they shared was practically demonic. It wasn't a hard guess to assume they had their father wrapped around their fingers. Then as though sensing my gaze they both turned to meet my gaze with a wave. Almost naturally I returned it with a wave and a much more genuine smile.

"Oh don't worry you're the first to arrive here. I'm sure Aurora and Draco would be happy to show you all to the children's wing." If the grimace Draco let slip as he looked at the girls was any sign I doubted it. Draco and girls didn't match yet, except for me of course. Sister privileges and all.

"Muuum". He whined with just the right amount of childish suffering he knew mother couldn't resist.

Her defeat was signaled with an exasperated sigh. "It would appear that Draco would rather wait for some of his friends. My apologies."

"None taken Narcissa. It is understandable, why I was the same at his age. I'm sure Aurora will do a fine job." I did not in anyway shape or form blush or straighten up at the compliment. My mothers chuckle was to an entirely unrelated matter.

Either way I ignored it as I settled smoothly in front of the arrivals with a charming smile. My voice only a little higher pitch than usual as I ignored the lingering heat upon my cheeks. "If you'd follow me please."

Then in a skilful manoeuver I led them purposefully, sure they were following behind my authoritative steps that encouraged others to follow. At least that's what I told myself as I composed myself until Astoria, the youngest of the two sisters slid up to me a grin across her face. "Aurora guess what we got you. You'll never guess it's amazin." She practically squealed in my ear with all the joy of a three year old.

"Oh I don't know, an aeroplane?" I asked a slight smirk crossing my face.

"What's an aeroplane?" She asked, curiosity in her eyes as I held the slightest bit of laughter in. This wasn't admittedly the first time I'd referenced something muggle in front of a group of purebloods and on more than one occasion I'd been applauded for an imagination that would obviously help me with my transfiguration when I was older. The fact I made such references in moderation had probably stopped any claims of insanity such as those the Lovegoods received, although I'd never met any of them having read the books I was more than inclined to agree, regardless of my opinions on Luna being a cutie.

"It's a giant metal bird." I replied, not willing to go into the technicalities of what exactly an aeroplane is. Even if I had the soft scoff that came from the other sister Daphne would have stopped me anyway as she glared at me before looking at Astoria.

"Don't listen to her Astoria, she's making fun of you again." The older girl said even as I held back the biting retort on the edge of my tongue. I was after all referencing something I didn't expect either to believe, it would be petty of me to trade back insults knowing I would do the same if someone tried to trick Draco.

Either way any reply either I or Astora could say was halted when we heard the amused voice of Hermea Greengrass. "Oh I wouldn't say that dear. There's many peculiar things in this world." The woman stated as I turned to look as she spoke I saw her give the most curious of stares before a subtle smile crossed her face.

The knowledge in her eyes sorta scared me, so naturally like the Slytherin-in-training I was I decided to change the subject. "So it wasn't an aeroplane?"

"No silly it's a…"

"...Surprise." Interrupted Daphne as we finally reached the children's wing. Since the house was so large most of our journey's had been restricted to the main room designed specifically for guests. This time though it was a special occasion so I decided it was alright to show where most of our toys were kept. Of course most of them where Draco since I was a little too old for toys.

"WOAH. ARE THESE ALL YOURS!" Astoria practically squealed as we entered, her soft chocolate coloured eyes sparkling with wonder as she looked across the army of plush toys. The reaction was more than a little encouraging as I preened under her excited glances. "Yup."

I suppose we might have had one or two things in common.

* * *

We played for almost ten minutes before mother arrived, a subtle smile on her face from having caught me and Astoria playing together (Daphne as well but I'd decided I didn't like Daphne today so she didn't count.). Behind her was a young girl around my age with shoulder-length dark hair and a face that reminded me of a pug, that wasn't to say she was ugly more along the lines of average but cute as a child. Her name was Pansy Parkinson and to be honest despite what the Harry Potter books said she wasn't all that bad. In fact from the few informal times we'd met she'd been exceedingly nice if not a little shy. Now she was practically hid behind my mother's legs with her eyes nervously staring towards the soft toys in our hands.

"Do you want to join in?" I asked with a smile I considered welcoming. Her small little nod to reply was enough of an answer for me as I offered her one of my bunnies. "There you go."

This time as we got into playing together, I listened a little closer to the whispers of the parents together.

"Your daughter is a most peculiar girl, Narcissa." Said one of the voices. I assumed it was Hermea since it sounded rather feminine though by the point it had reached me it was little more than a hiss so I wasn't sure.

"Oh? Please do expand." My mother's voice asked, even near silent by the point the sound carried the distance between us I would recognise it anywhere.

"She was talking about a muggle transport. An aeroplane."

"Really?" My mother's voice was filled with such honest surprise that I felt distinctly uncomfortable, though I did my best to hide it.

"Yes, we thought it was most peculiar. In fact it was rather worrying that a fine young girl at her age would get caught up with such tragic ideas. After all it's perfectly understandable that muggles use such extravagant tools to make up for their expansive shortcomings, to be honest I even applaud them for trying to bridge such a massive chasm as the one between us and them regardless of the futility. Aurora though is a witch. She should be able to identify a crutch regardless of how expensive it is, and that is exactly what such a transport is. An expensive and transparent attempt to do what we can with a broom, among many other magical items. Nevermind even our children can do what they're 'trained pilots' struggle with. Why that's an idea, you must get her a broom before she gets carried away with such novel ideas."

"I'll take your words into consideration Hermea, of course my daughter is an intelligent witch and it is no secret both the Malfoy's and the Black's do business in the muggle world. Her actions show initiative not a muggles taint. It is only a shame that others of her year have not shown such qualities instead wasting away their families earnings on superfluous dresses." My mother replied with a sharpness that caught me off guard. "Now if you excuse me it would appear other guests have arrived. I wouldn't want to waste there time."

"Of course, Narcissa." Mrs Greengrass said in a tone I couldn't recognise even as my mother disappeared and I returned to our games.

* * *

None of the other children ever seemed to acknowledge the newfound tension between my mother and the Greengrasses, even as the party continued deep into the night. In truth I was inherently grateful for it, it would have been a shame for Astoria to pick up on our parents dispute after I'd been enjoying her company. Still even if she had, I had been prepared for it, which had led to me greeting the shy Pansy Parkinson and the rather brutish Millicent Bulstrode (who'd only arrived after the argument) more warmly that I usually would have. We weren't really friends yet but rather acquaintances, having only met a few times beforehand.

The party though grander and more extravagant that what would be considered sensible for any muggle child less than royalty was still a rather generic birthday party. After playing with each other in the children's wing (though the boys and girls where for most of the time split up), we soon had lunch which was an exquisite mix of home cooked food made by our house elves as well as imported food from a few famous wizarding catering companies. Honestly I preferred the home cooked food but their was a matter of necessary presentation in being able to provide to guests five star food at a child's birthday party. It was ridiculous but shows of wealth were important in our world, almost as much as blood.

At the same time though there was a balance between showing your superiority, and trying to compensate. If you were showing off your wealth too much then it was just as bad as not possessing any wealth to display. The same actually covered presents for children, so rather than open them in full display of everyone it was considered more polite to do so in private. If someone was then to insult you with an offensive present whether due to what it was (or in some occasions how much it was) it could be shown in public as a sign of dispute between families. This led to Pureblood presents being less about the price and more about getting the right present as more than one person had been judged as imbecilic for buying an entirely inappropriate present.

It was due to this my presents had largely considered of nice clothing appropriate for my age as well as a few books that although not overly expensive where much better than overpriced jewellery or something ridiculous like a Hippogriff.

In truth it was a good day.

Now though day had turned to night and I was alone, my dress messily discarded on the floor only to disappear with a pop seconds later while I struggled by myself into my favourite pair of clear white pyjamas. The large fullsize mirror, giving a clear view of my childish struggles, which I purposefully ignored. On some occasions I would wait, allowing mum to help me but now that I was five I felt even more independent than usual. She was also in the next door room with Draco and he took forever.

So instead I was getting ready for bed by myself. It was a thought that made me inappropriately proud of myself as at the end of my struggles I looked into the mirror, my long sleeved pyjamas only a little ruffled from the dance into them. All in all the girl in white pyjamas with bleached white coloured hair that fell to shoulder length was both cute and pretty, and yet even now I found myself questioning whether this was all real.

She looked nothing like the girl I remembered from memories that now seemed so long ago. The memories of a girl who possessed dark brown hair that had once been an almost yellowed blonde when she'd been my age. The memories of a girl 18 years old with dreams of acting and a family both so similar to my own with a brother and parents, and yet so different. A girl who'd once been me and yet as I looked back into the memories felt different, less personal, but at the same time still clear. For a second I didn't know how to describe it.

I looked at the mirror, a girl with blonde hair that was more yellow than white stared back with turquoise eyes that never seemed sure whether they wanted to be more green or blue. She was the same age as me and possessed features that I'd once associated with me but now were those of a memory. With that though the colours changed, blonde hair turning a natural bleached blonde and turquoise eyes changing into a steel grey.

In that moment I realised just what it felt like; for I was doing it right now, these memories felt like looking through a mirror.

It was a realisation that made sleep distant.

* * *

For the next few months I was stuck, constantly reflecting on what I had learned.

The truth was I didn't know how to feel; the memories of a past life had to be mine, and yet they felt so distant. I knew deep down I should have been sad when I thought of a family that was no longer mine, filled with a longing that craved for those I had lost…. and yet I didn't.

I just didn't care. They were nothing to me except for a memory and that terrified me. I knew I'd once loved them and yet our bonds were broken, shattered like a chain binding me to another world and no matter how much I found myself knowing I should, I didn't care.

So instead I focused on those who were here, the family that I had here. For the next few months I was relentless filling the manor with my care and love for the family around me. It was all part of a selfish desire to feel, and I did.

For them I cared.

* * *

It wouldn't be till the second month after my birthday I realised that the strange magic that left me feeling detached from my past life didn't restrict my feelings of people I'd read about in the Harry Potter books. The fact they existed here seemed to be enough for me to feel an emotional response to them. Case in point from the moment I'd heard of him I'd feared Voldemort just as much as I'd hated Bellatrix Lestrange.

I think if it wasn't for I'd never been sure exactly on what to think of the Malfoy's, the family I loved would be shattered. So naturally I was thankful for the numerous fanfictions that had helped show the group as something if not positive then at least humane. Even then I would utterly deny anyone who thought they could argue that their would ever be a time when I wouldn't love them. They were mine and no lines from a book would ever accomplish to detail them sufficiently.

* * *

I stuck to that belief even as I plunged myself deep into my studies.

Well at least I tried to, it turns out that their was limits on just how much time a five year old would be allowed to study hard before things became troubling to the rest of the family. Case in point a month since I'd started my mother had decided I needed a hobby. I picked reading, which led to mother arguing that was already what I did all the time, I argued studying included a lot of writing as well. Eventually mother conceded with a necessary use of puppy eyes, and soon after fiction became just as common as non-fiction in my reading lists.

I was convinced in my genius that I had won our argument, and that mother had lost the war and therefore would not challenge my hobby again. In hindsight it was a rather large oversight of me to assume so, after all mother was a Slytherin and retribution was destined from the very moment I'd used my cheat move. Her retaliation was a masterpiece of a move one that as a normal child would have shattered my resolve and one I would have been incapable of defending against, she'd bought me the Harry Potter: Adventure Book series.

Now traditionally one might assume that a parent buying their child a series of books for their age group was a loving and caring sign of affection to help encourage them to read more. I was not a fool however and could see through her plot like Mad-Eye and… wait could Moody look through people's clothings?… anyway I could see her ploy and I was not amused for the simple fact of what exactly these books were. In simple terms they where word vomit, a collection of fantastical tales about a cultural icon who had been built up to ludicrous expectations due in part to speculation and the greed associated with a cash cow.

Come to think of it as a proper five year old girl I would have adored them, and it only further helped fanfiction's conclusions that Draco was jelly of Heartthrob Harry the dream of every little girl. As I said though I wasn't fooled, there was no way my mother had bought me these books without an ulterior motivation but still in my foolishness I read…

...I may have considered attempting to read them the greatest mistake of my life if not for what they would lead to.

* * *

 _Join in the adventures of the Great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived as he travels with Merlin and Morgana into a land of ancient magic's and mysterious creatures. Learn of his quest for the resurrection stone and to regain his parents from the evil He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his right hand man the terrible Sirius Black..._

* * *

...Sirius Black, the man currently sitting in Azkaban for a crime he never committed. A man without even a trial to his name despite the title of heir to the Black family and if things went as planned the future head. For the last five years he'd been stuck in his own personal hell surrounded by ghastly creatures that even in my greatest imaginations couldn't picture, not really. Meanwhile here I was cuddling up to my fluffy ducklings and a family I would never trade while another child slept in a cupboard living on scraps from a loveless… I couldn't even call them family, things maybe. Out there in a house in surrey a young Harry Potter was surviving day to day without a clue of how important he really was while these people made stories of fantasies he probably couldn't even dream of.

It made me feel sick to the stomach. I just felt so spoiled and powerless.

I couldn't 'save' Harry, my family was too dark, and the link of our relationship to the dark lord still much too fresh for even Dumbledore to give a second chance. Not when the only way we could protect him was to rip him from magical blood wards designed to defend him against his biggest threat.

Sirius Black though, a heir unlawfully imprisoned, I could save him. The light would herald him for his actions even as they weeped of tragic injustices. The dark would band together outraged at how easily the protection of their names and titles was taken.

Either way Sirius Black would be free. I just had to figure out how.


End file.
